


As I Fall

by KCKenobi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Whump, Broken Bones, Cold Weather, Eventual Fluff, Family Fluff, Frostbite, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hypothermia, Injury, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Whump, Obi-Wan making friends with large animals lol, Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28530051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KCKenobi/pseuds/KCKenobi
Summary: “Obi-Wan!” They both looked up, eyes trained on the top of the comm tower. “We got through! Come back down, and we’ll find some place to wait for—”“Anakin?” His voice was nearly drowned by the bitter wind, and Anakin was so drowsy he wasn’t sure he’d heard it. But then Obi-Wan turned his head, looking down, his eyes wide and desperate.“Anakin, I—I don’t—”His grip on the tower loosened.And Anakin watched Obi-Wan fall.—Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka are stranded on an ice planet. As they trek through a blizzard to call for help, frozen lakes and ice creatures leave them hurt and shivering—and survival seems more and more unlikely.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 64
Kudos: 458





	As I Fall

Blasterfire, then silence. That was the last thing Anakin remembered.

And so now, as he opened his eyes to a star-speckled sky, a sunset dimming below the horizon and wind chilling his cheeks, his head jerked up.

Given that he’d been about to jump to hyperspace, this was a bit concerning.

“Ahsoka.” His voice was raspy as he sat up. Well, tried to sit up—the ship had landed on its thrusters, so sitting in the pilot’s chair was akin to lying flat on his back. “Where—”

“I’m here.”

Her voice came from behind him—or was it below him? He tried to twist his body, and found Ahsoka unbuckling the emergency seatbelt in the chair adjacent to his.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” she said. “Nothing but cuts and scrapes. I think you guys got the worst of it.”

Ahsoka leapt from her chair and landed easily on the floor—well, Anakin supposed it was technically the wall. He turned to release his own seatbelt, but his prosthetic hand didn’t quite move right, the artificial nerve-endings ignoring his command. When he wiggled his fingers, they were slow to respond.

_Kriff._

“Obi-Wan.”

Anakin whirled to the sound of coughing. Beside him, in the co-pilot’s chair, Obi-Wan was lying on his back.

“Also fine,” Obi-Wan said, lifting his head. “Are you—”

“Yeah.” He flexed his hand, and Obi-Wan watched the joints creak open and closed. “Just a loose wire somewhere. I can probably fix it if I—”

“Wait.” Obi-Wan’s voice rasped, and he paused to cough again. “Don’t touch the Force yet. We don’t want Dooku to sense—”

“Dooku’s not coming after us. Not himself, anyway.” Anakin sat up in his chair and leapt down to the floor, landing beside Ahsoka. “He won’t get his hands dirty down here.”

“Maybe not,” Obi-Wan called down, “but we must be cautious. Droids may not sense us, but sentients might. We don’t know who’s out there.”

To that, Anakin had no protest.

The moment of silence was enough to draw Anakin’s attention to something else: from above him, a gust of cold air. Anakin stepped back and looked toward the ceiling—or, more accurately, the giant gaping hole where the ceiling used to be.

Ahsoka followed his gaze. “Guess we’re finding another way off this rock,” she said. “Something ripped the hull clean off.”

“Good thing we were in atmosphere first,” Anakin said. He glanced back to the pilot’s seats up above, where Obi-Wan was still sitting on the crooked backrest. “You coming down, Master, or just enjoying the view?”

Obi-Wan looked down on them from his perch, rolling his eyes, but Anakin read something else in his face. The hull was smashed in beside him—it was a wonder he hadn’t been crushed.

“Sorry,” he replied. “I’m just…a bit hesitant to jump. My knee…well, I was jostled a little during the crash.”

Anakin cursed under his breath. Obi-Wan’s knee had recovered fine after Geonosis, but it still wasn’t the same—he’d torn the artificial ligament a few times since then already, and now—

“Do you think you tore it?”

Obi-Wan straightened his leg, winced, then let it dangle from the chair again. “No,” he said, “at least not all the way. But…it doesn’t feel good. I’m afraid if I have a hard landing—”

“Yeah, bad idea.” A new gust of freezing air filled the cockpit, and Anakin tried to pretend he was crossing his arms out of irritation rather than in attempt to keep warm. “You know,” he said, “if we could just use the—”

“Not _yet_ ,” Obi-Wan snapped back. “We need to do reconnaissance before we light up the Force like a beacon—”

“Alright, alright.” Anakin positioned himself directly underneath Obi-Wan and nodded for Ahsoka to follow. “Land on your right leg. We’ll catch you.”

“Famous last words,” Obi-Wan muttered. Flippant as always—but still, as he pushed himself off the side of the chair, he winced.

Without using the Force at all, his landing was awkward and heavy. His knees buckled and he fell hard into Anakin with a cry, hands grasping for anything to hold himself up. But then Anakin’s arms were around his shoulders, and Ahsoka’s were holding his arm. Obi-Wan just nodded tightly when Anakin murmured, “Okay?” and for a long moment no one moved—clinging to warm hands and strong shoulders, everything was steady. And, for now, warm.

Anakin suddenly realized he could see his own breath in the air.

Obi-Wan was the first to move. He released his fist from its purchase on the back of Anakin’s hood, stepping forward hesitantly. He dusted off the front of his tunic, though Anakin saw nothing there.

“Well then,” Obi-Wan said. “Reconnaissance.”

Though he was clearly trying not to, he limped over to the side of the cockpit and ignited his lightsaber. It hissed as he punctured the wall, dragging the blade in a circle until he could kick out the center—a makeshift door. Anakin and Ahsoka shared a glance—her eyebrows raised and his tight—before they followed to peer through the opening.

And there, beyond the durasteel hull, was an endless expanse of snow and ice.

“Well,” Anakin said, peering over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, “guess we don’t have to worry about any sentients sensing we’re here. I don’t think there _are_ any.”

“Unless the Separatists followed us,” Ahsoka said.

“Which they may have,” said Obi-Wan with a pointed glance in Anakin’s direction. “So we must be cautious.”

Anakin stepped away from the opening, already feeling the sting of cold wind on his face. He went over to the comms and controls—reaching first with his damaged prosthetic, before switching to his other with a frustrated huff—and tried the buttons and levels.

“Busted,” he said. “We can’t get a message offworld.”

“Maybe we don’t need to.” Ahsoka had appeared behind him, looking down at the lifeless control panel. “I mean, there’s a chance Cody and the men saw us go down, right?”

“There’s also a chance they didn’t,” Obi-Wan, leaning up against the side of the hull. “And we’ll have to assume that’s the case. We certainly can’t stay here and wait to freeze.”

Anakin grimaced at the realization that he was right—already he was starting to shiver as the last of the ship’s internal warmth drained away. Pulling his robe tighter around his shoulders, he turned to the supply closet and pulled open the doors with both hands.

“Here,” he said, taking out a parka and handing it to Obi-Wan. “Glad I never took these out after the mission to Pantora. Ah, shoot—Snips, these are all made for humans. This one should fit you, but your montrals…”

“It’s fine,” she said, slipping the parka on. “Better than nothing. What’s the plan, Skyguy?”

Anakin looked to Obi-Wan. “Before I blacked out…I think there were mountains. Or at least some hills and caves. Do you remember—”

Obi-Wan nodded. “We should find the high ground,” he said. “Get a better view of the terrain. If there are sentients to be found, we’ll be able to see the light of their settlements. Find a comm center we can use.”

They turned to go. But before Anakin could walk away, he noticed Obi-Wan still only had his parka halfway on—he was struggling with the second sleeve, trying to slowly unbend his elbow.

“Hey,” Anakin said. “Hold on. Your arm—”

“Nothing serious,” Obi-Wan said. He straightened the joint, but didn’t quite manage to hide his grimace. “When the hull caved in…as I said before, I got a little jostled. I’ll be fine.”

Anakin eyed him carefully—searching the Force for any signs of additional hidden injuries. When he was fairly sure there weren’t any, he reached out for Obi-Wan’s coat and helped him slide his injured him into the sleeve.

“Are you sure you’re alright to—”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, hugging his arm to his chest. “Now, let’s go. The sun is setting, and it’ll help to have a little light as we climb.”

Outside of the ship, the planet’s climate was even more extreme—they were badgered by wind as they started up the icy slopes, seeking the peak of the hill. Footholds were few and far between, and several times one of them faltered and slid back down. After he slipped for the second time, Anakin reached out and grabbed Ahsoka and Obi-Wan’s hands.

“You do realize this means that the next time you go down,” Obi-Wan said, “you’re taking us both with you?”

“Oh, of course,” Anakin said with a smirk. “In fact, I’m counting on it. What fun would it be if I was the only one to— _whoa_ —"

As predicted, Anakin went down again.

And, also as predicted, all three of them got a face-full of snow.

They grumbled the rest of the way, huffing and puffing with the effort to lift their boots. By the time they reached the top, Anakin’s lungs burned from the icy air. Obi-Wan’s limp was considerably worse, and Ahsoka was rubbing her lekku between her hands to warm them up. They stumbled to the edge of the cliff, staring out into the muted landscape—the sun had sunk below the horizon, and the expanse of ice ahead was quickly becoming dark.

And among the darkness, nothing. No lamplights. No settlements.

“Well,” Anakin said, “so much for the high ground. It doesn’t look like anyone’s here. For all we know, the planet’s a barren wasteland.”

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan said, narrowing his eyes toward the horizon. “But unlikely. Look—tracks.” He gestured forward. “Four-legged creatures, so not necessarily sentient, but they’re single file. Not a herd.” He turned to Anakin, raising his eyebrows. “They had sentient riders.”

“Okay, so someone was here. They’re not now. That isn’t particularly helpful.”

“But _that_ is.”

Both Anakin and Obi-Wan turned at Ahsoka’s voice, following the line of her gaze. She was pointing somewhere far off—not at the tracks, but up at the sky in the direction they traveled. And there, sure enough, was a blinking red light among the clouds.

“A comm tower.” Anakin breathed, and the air puffed out in front of him like smoke. “Nice, Snips. How far do you think it is?”

Obi-Wan stuck out his thumb, closed one eye, then the other. “About three klicks.”

“No problem,” Anakin said, then hesitated with a glance in Obi-Wan’s direction. “Well, for those of us with functional knees. Maybe you should stay here—”

“Anakin.”

“I’m just saying—”

“I am perfectly capable, and I’ve made it this far—”

“Um, Masters?”

Anakin turned. Behind him, Ahsoka was gesturing upward—on the horizon, dark clouds. _Very_ dark clouds. And—if Anakin remembered correctly from his Temple classes, noting the patterns in the sky—they were coming this way.

“Okay. Fine,” Anakin said. “So, you’re not staying here.”

“Correct. Now, come on—at least we’ll have an easier time going down than we did climbing up—”

Obi-Wan’s voice dropped off.

It was replaced by a sound from behind them—the drone of a low and sinister growl.

Anakin turned slowly. On either side, he felt Ahsoka and Obi-Wan doing the same, stepping backward to the edge of the cliff with widening eyes as they saw what awaited them. Anakin felt the breath leave his lungs as Obi-Wan murmured what he wished weren’t true:

“ _Pantran whitefangs._ ”

There were four of them—giant ice cats, baring such massive teeth that Anakin didn’t have to wonder where they got their name. Prowling closer, their eyes gleamed white as the ice.

“Uh, Obi-Wan…you’re good with animals, right? Any chance you can—”

“Not as long as we’re standing between them and their younglings.”

Anakin turned his head slowly. And there, following Obi-Wan’s gaze, he saw it—a little nook in the icy wall beside them. In it, there were maybe half a dozen tiny ice cats, dozing together in a pile. In any other scenario, Anakin thought, they would’ve been cute.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t any other scenario.

Beside him, he felt Ahsoka reach for her lightsabers, but he gestured her down. “They already see us as a threat,” he said. “Let’s just try to slowly go around them…”

He took one step to the left, aiming to bypass the whitefangs.

Instead, one lunged at him.

Anakin leapt back. “Okay. Plan B.”

“What’s Plan B?” Ahsoka hissed.

“We improvise.”

“So Plan B is not _having_ a plan?”

“Plan B is…” Anakin said, glancing behind him. “We jump.”

“Oh, excellent,” said Obi-Wan. “It’s like the old adage—if Anakin Skywalker jumped off a cliff, would you—”

“Well, do _you_ have a better plan?”

“I—”

The cats leapt forward, fangs bared.

“Too late, go. _Go!_ ”

Anakin stepped backward. Instantly, his foot struck the icy slope below, and then slipped out from under him entirely, until he was sliding down the slanted hillside on his butt. _Like sledding_ , Anakin thought— _minus the trivial detail of, you know, a_ sled. He tried to steer with the Force, but even so, the ice was jagged. It ripped through the outer layer of his parka, nixing the thermal properties—though at least it spared his skin from the same fate. And anyway, better cold than dead.

_Too bad we could still be both._

Because the whitefangs followed.

At the bottom of the incline, Anakin slipped backward. He struck his head on the ice, still skidding across the ground as Ahsoka and Obi-Wan tumbled beside him. Yet even through the dizzy fog, he could see them—with claws meant for icy terrain, the whitefangs gained ground.

Anakin pushed to his feet. “Okay, so Plan C—run!”

He started forward before Ahsoka grabbed his arm. “It’s ice—a lake frozen over. What if it won’t hold our—”

“It has to unless we want to become kitty kibble. Come on.”

The ice made a precarious crackling noise with Anakin’s first step. But it did hold.

_Plan C it is_.

But again, they found themselves slipping and sliding. It wasn’t long before Obi-Wan fell, his knees digging hard into the ice and piercing it like pinpricks. The cracks didn’t spread. But still, as Obi-Wan stood again, they creaked.

“You okay?”

“Keep going,” Obi-Wan said, limping forward. “I’ll catch up.”

“We’re not going to leave—”

“ _Anakin._ Just go. I have an idea.” He was breathing hard, and he leaned a little too much on one leg, but his eyes were clear and bright. “ _Trust_ me.”

Anakin felt himself try to smile. “Always, Master.”

And so, with Ahsoka in tow, he kept going.

But behind him, he heard it—a lightsaber igniting. Anakin whirled again to see Obi-Wan twirl his blade, and for a moment, he thought he might take the whitefangs head on.

Instead, Obi-Wan dug his blade straight down into the ice.

He started to run.

Dragging his lightsaber through the ice, a hiss of steam rising up from it, Obi-Wan pulled his saber perpendicular to the direction they’d been running. The ice melted on either side of the blade, turning to water in the kyber heat. _A barrier,_ Anakin realized—the farther Obi-Wan went, the longer a barricade he created between them and the whitefangs.

The creatures skidded to a stop when they reached it. Staring down into the newly formed water, they paced back and forth, their low growls carrying even across the divide. Obi-Wan had stopped running and circled back, nearing the spot where the whitefangs stood.

He smiled weakly when he made it to Anakin and Ahsoka. “Didn’t I tell you to trust me?”

Anakin heaved a sigh of relief.

And just when he was rearing to make a witty reply, just when he was ready to keep moving and get far, far away from their feline friends, the unthinkable happened.

From across the divide in the ice, a whitefang lunged.

Straight for Obi-Wan.

It missed—though barely—plunging into the water with a bitter cold splash. But one of its heavy paws struck the edge of the ice just a breath away from Obi-Wan’s feet, with enough force to shatter it.

The ice split open.

Obi-Wan plummeted down.

— - —

Ahsoka had to hold Anakin back from diving into the water himself.

Obi-Wan had taught him to swim—for some reason, the memory came to him now. Clinging to Obi-Wan’s chest as a youngling as he walked them deeper into the Temple lake, terrified to let go.

Always, terrified to let go.

“I’m going in,” Anakin said again, already starting to shrug off his parka. “Wait here—”

“You’ll freeze,” Ahsoka said.

“He’ll die.”

He knelt at the edge of the ice, fingers curled around the jagged edge as he peered into the murk. Nothing _._ Just his own reflection in the ripples, eyes wide and young and almost unrecognizable.

‘ _I’ll be right here,’_ Obi-Wan had said all those years ago. ‘ _I won’t let you drown.’_ When Anakin had finally tried to tread water on his own, his mouth had dipped beneath the surface and he’d sucked in a lungful of water. He’d come up coughing, flailing for Obi-Wan to lift him up and bring him back to where he could stand. Even when his feet could reach the bottom again, Anakin hadn’t let go.

Now, Anakin kicked off his boots and prepared to dive.

But then—

_Splash._

Anakin stumbled backward.

Obi-Wan’s head appeared from the water, coughing and sputtering and grasping for something to hold on to. Anakin dropped to his knees again. He leaned out and grabbed Obi-Wan’s flailing hands and pulled him to the edge of the ice, then got him under the arms and heaved him to solid ground. The momentum knocked Anakin flat on his back, Obi-Wan’s shivering form crashing down on top of him before he rolled off and onto his side.

Anakin sat up and crawled to him. “You’re okay,” he said, as Obi-Wan struggled for air. “You can breathe. You’re—”

Obi-Wan rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself onto his hands and knees, before retching water and bile onto the icy ground. Ahsoka knelt on his other side, gripping one of his shoulders. Through the hand on his back, Anakin felt him shivering.

When the worst of the coughing had subsided, Obi-Wan rolled back down onto his back. He gave a weak smile.

“Beautiful day for a swim, isn’t it?”

For some reason, hearing the mirth in his voice made Anakin’s eyes water.

Anakin leaned back on his hands, even as the ice turned his skin numb. Across the divide, he saw the soaked whitefang pull itself from the water, retreating with its kin. The storm clouds loomed closer.

Obi-Wan sat up too, coughing weakly. With a shaky hand, he started to unzip his parka.

“No use wearing this now. It’s—” He shuddered, teeth chattering. “Doing a bit more harm than good, I think.”

“Trade with me,” Anakin said. “I’ll wear your wet one—at least it’s a barrier from the wind.”

“Yeah, Master,” Ahsoka said, crouching beside them, “a barrier made of ice.”

“Keep it, Anakin.” Obi-Wan waved him away. “I’m already soaked. No sense in making that two of us.”

But Obi-Wan was shaking so badly now he could hardly get the words out. His hair was plastered to his forehead, water dripping from his beard and down his cheeks, and his clothes were completely soaked through. Already, his lips were twinged purple.

Anakin glanced up again at the storm clouds. “We don’t have time for this argument. We’re trading.” He knelt toward Obi-Wan, reaching forward. “Arms out.”

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan lifted his arms. Anakin helped him get the parka off, careful around his broken arm, and wrung the water out over the ice. Then, he slipped the dry parka around Obi-Wan before putting the wet one on himself.

And _kriff,_ Ahsoka had been right—it _did_ feel like it was made of ice. But at least he had dry clothes. He’d be fine.

Ahsoka and Anakin stood, then helped Obi-Wan to his feet. He wobbled a bit, steadying himself on Anakin’s arm.

“We’re still about two klicks out,” Anakin said. “You gonna be okay to walk that far?”

“Of course.”

Anakin nodded, deciding to accept that at face value. As if there were any other option.

Because already the wind had begun to pick up. The sun had sunk fully away, the daylight gone. Anakin rubbed his hands together, but they didn’t feel any warmer.

“Let’s keep moving, then,” he said. “We may not be able to stay ahead of the storm, but we can still keep to the edge of it.”

Yet even that quickly became impossible. Once they’d reached the end of the ice and started to trudge through the snow, walking was laborious—Anakin found himself breathing twice as hard, twice as fast, and a few times he staggered. Beside him, Obi-Wan bumped his shoulder as he briefly lost his balance. Ahsoka walked ahead of them both, but even she had begun to slow down. _A klick and a half to go_. _That’s nothing, right? We’ll be just…just…_

“Skyguy?”

He realized he’d stopped walking. Ahsoka had turned, her eyebrows knit together.

“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why I…I guess I was just distracted.”

She rubbed her lekku between her hands again, and for a moment he wondered if lekku and montrals could get frostbite, like fingers and ears…

“Are you okay?” he said.

“Fine,” she said, but her voice wavered. She was looking at Obi-Wan. “How much farther?”

“We’re about halfway.” She nodded, and he grimaced as they kept walking. “Stay alert, okay? The cold…it can mess with you. We have to keep—”

Obi-Wan stumbled, left foot over right, and bumped into Anakin. Anakin grabbed him around the shoulders.

“Got you,” he said.

“Sorry.”

Anakin hushed him. “You’re fine. We’re almost there.” Anakin briefly considered letting go, but thought it couldn’t hurt to steer Obi-Wan in the right direction. And besides, it put another layer between him and the cold. “Hey, you know what this reminds me of?”

Obi-Wan made a sound of acknowledgment.

“That mission to Orto Plutonia. You know, the one where you tried to learn the Talz language on the spot during a high-stakes negotiation.”

A small chuckle. That was good. “I remember.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t try to negotiate with the ice cats just now. Tell them we meant no harm and walk away peacefully.”

“Very funny.”

“Thank you, I try. Hey, at least this time we’re not about to cause a planetary war,” Anakin said. “It could be worse.”

“Famous last words.”

“Is that your catchphrase now?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, and that was enough of a reassurance. He was still shivering, stumbling against Anakin, soaked and blue-lipped. But at least he was talking. Even laughing a little.

The wind had really picked up now, and it blew the snow around them like a cyclone. Anakin couldn’t even see the comm tower anymore, except for the occasional flicker of red in the sky. He hoped they were even still headed in the right direction—Force, he couldn’t even tell Ahsoka had stopped in front of him until he slammed into her back.

Anakin stumbled backward, murmuring apologies. “What is it?”

“The tracks,” Ahsoka said, pointing to the ground. “The ones we saw before. I think we found them.” She knelt down, tracing one with her finger before walking to the next one. “But is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”

“I suspect we’re about to find out.”

“Do you think—”

Ahsoka’s voice dropped off. He’d been looking down at the tracks, but now Anakin’s head whipped up, his eyes forward.

Looking straight into the face of a snarling narglatch.

The creature had a long blue mane and beady eyes, and it loomed so far above Ahsoka that its fangs could’ve grazed the tip of her montrals. She stepped backward as the narglatch snarled.

“Whoa, there—”

“Don’t move, Snips.”

“I—”

“ _Shh.”_

But then two more narglatches appeared on either side, looking down on Ahsoka with gleaming eyes. The first one sniffed her face.

It growled.

Anakin felt Obi-Wan shake free of his hold, stepping forward.

He held out a hand.

The creatures froze, staring right at him.

“Hello there, my friend,” Obi-Wan said, moving slowly closer. “We didn’t mean to startle you.”

The largest narglatch bristled, then seemed to consider this. Anakin held his breath, trying to still his shivering lest the movement startle the creatures.

Obi-Wan limped slowly in front of him, stepping between Ahsoka and the narglatch. “Where is your rider?”

The creature whined. When Obi-Wan reached out again, he rested his hand on its nose. The creature nuzzled his palm. On either side, the other two stood down.

After a moment, Obi-Wan looked back to Anakin and Ahsoka. “Something’s happened. Their riders ran into some trouble up ahead.”

“How do you know?” Ahsoka said, her eyes wide in marvel.

“Don’t question it,” Anakin replied. “It’s like you with reading people and me with machines—Obi-Wan picks up waifs and strays wherever he goes.”

Obi-Wan shot a look over his shoulder, still rubbing the narglatch’s head. “I do not.”

“Then how do you explain me?”

“ _That_ ,” he said, smiling wryly now, “was entirely Qui-Gon’s fault.”

“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Obi-Wan moved to the side of the narglatch and patted its stomach, then used its long mane to pull himself up onto its back. He motioned for Anakin and Ahsoka to do the same. The creature didn’t seem quite as happy about it as Anakin approached his own narglatch, but with a quick glance from Obi-Wan, warmed up to the idea.

The creature’s body heat made Anakin want to curl up right there on its back and fall asleep. But instead he grabbed the mane, imitating Obi-Wan’s position, and led the creature forward.

Anakin hadn’t realized how exhausted he’d been until he could sit down again. The storm sent snow and ice battering against his cheeks, the cold parka failing to keep his shivering at bay, and it was all he could do to keep himself upright. So to stay alert, he focused on the goal—get to the comm tower. Reach Cody. And then, of course, there was the matter of staying alive long enough to be rescued, but that was a later problem. They’d manage. Maybe they could start a fire with their lightsabers, or hotwire the comm system to produce more heat, or slice open one of these beasts and crawl inside its warm, fleshy innards—

At that lovely thought, Anakin decided to stop thinking about the future.

When the comm tower came into view, he could’ve cried from joy. They were all shivering as they dismounted, and Obi-Wan nearly fell as he bid them goodbye. The narglatches retreated into the snow, and the three of them started to the comm control box.

They didn’t make it far before they stopped dead.

Ahsoka pointed. Anakin sucked in a breath. Obi-Wan froze.

There, fallen in the snow, were three bodies.

— - —

“What in the name of…”

Anakin’s voice trailed off as Ahsoka stepped forward, kneeling to the ground. She put two fingers to the neck of the first body.

“This one’s dead,” she said when she turned. “I…I think they all are.”

Anakin went to her side and looked closer. And there, as he suspected, he could see them clearly—blast bolt wounds. Straight to the chest. The bodies were cold, but their cheeks were still twinged pink.

“Someone did this,” he said. “Recently.”

“I thought you said this place was deserted.”

‘Well, clearly there’s—”

Anakin whirled around just in time to feel a blaster bolt zip past his ear.

“Take cover!” Anakin drew his lightsaber, but still in the swirl of snow, didn’t identify a target. “I can’t _see._ Ahsoka—”

“I’ve got your back.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes and deflected the oncoming fire. But then they emerged from the snow—battle droids.

Obi-Wan bumped a hand against Anakin’s shoulder. “I’ll get to the comm controls,” he said, nearly shouting over the wind and battle fray. “Cover me.”

Though that last part hadn’t been necessary—it was instinct by now, to have one another’s backs—still Anakin and Ahsoka stepped in front of him. They fought in tandem, deflecting bolts and slicing droids when they could. This didn’t make sense—had the droids followed them all this way? They would’ve seen them. And why bother, then, to kill the three narglatch riders when they’d been aiming for stealth?

No, that couldn’t have been it. Anakin’s thoughts tumbled languidly as he realized—the Separatists must’ve seen the comm tower too. Knew that would be their target. And then when they’d seen three hooded figures headed toward it—

Obi-Wan’s voice cut through the fog. “No good! The antenna’s been bent by the storm,” he called from somewhere over Anakin’s shoulder. “Long-range comms are down.”

Anakin’s tongue was so frozen, he couldn’t even form the string of profanity that bubbled to mind.

He risked a glance behind him. Obi-Wan was crouched over the comm controls at the foot of the tower, gripping the metal as if it were the only thing holding him up. And above him, there it was—the antenna, drooping torpidly from the peak of the tower, glinting in the red light.

Anakin forced his mouth to move. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not afraid of heights, then,” he said. “I’ll take care of it. Be ready to punch in a message on my mark.”

“Anakin, wait.” Obi-Wan’s voice grew closer, though Anakin was too preoccupied with the droids to turn. “I’ll go. I’ll be no good in a fight right now.”

“You’ll also be no good falling from the top of the comm tower.”

“I can manage.”

“No.” Anakin heard the tremor in his own voice, thick from shivering, just like Obi-Wan’s. “Stay here. Get behind the control panel until—”

“Anakin. Protect your Padawan.” Obi-Wan turned away. “And let me protect you.”

He didn’t have time to answer. A blaster bolt whizzed toward him, and Anakin moved to deflect it. But his arms felt sluggish, his muscles reluctant to obey his brain. He missed. Somewhere behind him, the bolt ricocheted off the rungs of the comm tower.

By the time he turned again, Obi-Wan was already clinging to the metal, several meters up. The wind battered him so forcefully it was a wonder he didn’t blow away. But then the snow thickened between them. The image blurred, then vanished.

Anakin returned to the droids before him. But he caught himself wondering whether Obi-Wan would be there when he looked back.

— - —

_Great things are done by a series of small things brought together._

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure who said that. He’d read it somewhere, once. A poet maybe. A philosopher. An artist? Anyway, it didn’t matter now. What did matter was his own series of small things—his unbroken arm moving upward, his fist closing around the next horizontal stretch of metal. His foot finding a new place to step. His eyes managing to stay open despite the biting wind and ice that tore at them. Small things, small things. That’s how he would do this.

Or, at least, it’s how he would try.

Obi-Wan’s damp hair felt like icicles against his scalp. Even with Anakin’s dry parka, his wet clothing underneath still soaked him to the bone, and the air was so thick with snow he felt as though he were still swimming now. It was just as hard to breathe—he drowned in sleet, and when he tried to exhale, the wind seemed to push the air right back into his lungs. He heaved out a breath. It hurt almost as much as his knee and left him dizzy. A particularly strong gust of wind nearly took him down, and he clung to the metal rungs like his damp shirt hugged his skin.

_Oh dear. Of all the moments for the world to start spinning—_

He kept his eyes open—afraid if he didn’t, he’d never open them again—and looked below. _Stop spinning, stop spinning…_ He was halfway to the top. Or, at least he thought. He didn’t dare look up, lest he lose his balance tilting his head. _Dizzy, dizzy…_ He tried to focus on anything else—the red light of blaster bolts, the sounds of his Padawans’ lightsabers, of their voices. He briefly caught himself thinking how unpleasant it would be to throw up from all the way up here, and watch it fall all the way back down like snow…

He tried to pull himself up further. Slipped instead, skidding down the metal, unable to stop himself from crying out when he caught all his weight on his broken arm. He hung on still. Pushed himself up, this time with his injured knee. _Blasted thing._ The wind was so loud now he didn’t even hear himself cry out again.

When Obi-Wan finally made it to the top, he wrapped his legs around the metal and clung to the red light with both arms. He didn’t dare look down.

_What now?_ he thought, the words traipsing through his mind like snow flurries—aimless and soon gone. _Ah, right. Yes. The antenna._

He let go of the tower with one hand and reached out. He was trembling so badly his hands fumbled with the wire—he couldn’t feel them, and his fingers were blanched with frostbite. He dropped his arm and clung to the metal again. Closed his eyes. Tried to breathe.

_Small things…small things…_

He tried again, this time reaching with his good arm. But no— _oh, not good_. He slipped. He couldn’t use his better hand to straighten the antenna without relying on the broken one to hold all his weight.

He pulled himself up again.

_Small things._

Cried out.

Black spots vignetted his eyesight. _No, don’t pass out now._ His hand found the antenna. He saw, more than felt, his fingers bend it back into place. Someone was screaming.

And then, the last of the small things—

The antenna straightened up to the sky.

— - —

Down below, Anakin and Ahsoka were fading fast.

“How many you got, Snips?”

Anakin wasn’t entirely sure if the words made it to his Padawan—his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, the lips numb and bumbling. Wind and blasterfire made the words equally difficult to hear, even if he’d managed to annunciate them. But then Ahsoka’s voice whipped into his ear like a snow squall.

“Twenty,” she said. She sounded far away. “You?”

“That’s all? Padawan, I thought I trained you better than that.”

He tried to sound light. That was how they always got through difficult things—keeping it light. And anyway, it was better than admitting to Ahsoka that he’d only taken out fifteen droids himself. His wonky prosthetic wasn’t doing him any favors, nor was Obi-Wan’s drenched parka around his shoulders, and he wondered if she saw how frequently he was stumbling…

But then they both heard it.

From far above them, Obi-Wan’s voice: “Anakin— _now!_ ”

He didn’t waste a second. Ahsoka covered him as the remaining droids continued to fire, and Anakin sprinted to the control panel. He risked a glance upward, but the storm was too thick—he couldn’t see Obi-Wan through the snow. So he powered forward, following the light of the comm system.

True to Obi-Wan’s word, the panel was lit up green, ready to transmit. Anakin used only his left hand to type in the message, afraid his right would mistype and they’d be doomed. It was slower, but he did it. One word at a time, one coordinate at a time—

No sooner than he’d hit transmit did the machine go dark again.

This time, he could see Obi-Wan—from directly underneath him, Anakin could just make out the shape of his slumped form at the top of the comm tower, his arms and legs clinging to the metal like a koala bear. The antenna had fallen lopsided again, pinging against the top rungs.

Behind him, the droids fell silent, and suddenly that pinging was the only thing he heard over the wind.

“Ahsoka—”

“I’m okay,” she said. He turned to see her standing alone, surrounded by severed droid parts. She grinned. “Make that forty.”

She was shivering, and Anakin’s mouth was so numb he wasn’t even sure if he’d moved it correctly—but he smiled.

“Obi-Wan!” They both looked up, eyes trained on the top of the tower. “We got through! Come back down, and we’ll find some place to wait for—”

“Anakin?”

His voice was nearly drowned by the wind, and Anakin was so drowsy he wasn’t sure he’d heard it. But then Obi-Wan turned his head, looking down, his eyes wide and desperate.

“Anakin, I—I don’t—”

His grip on the tower loosened.

And Anakin watched Obi-Wan fall.

— - —

The thing about moments like this—moments where it feels as if your life has fallen sideways like a cockeyed antenna—is that rarely do they feel like just _moments_.

In reality, about five seconds passed between the time when Obi-Wan let go of the tower and when he hit the ground. Five seconds, during which a number of things took place very quickly—but to Anakin, very, very slowly.

_One._

First, in this one endless moment, Anakin watched Obi-Wan fall but his memory leapt to a very different scene. Coruscant, an airchase. Zam Wesell and a yellow speeder and Obi-Wan falling, falling. And a secret that Obi-Wan didn’t know he knew—that, in that last second before Anakin had caught him, Obi-Wan’s shields had slipped and a thought had leaked out:

“ _Anakin will catch me.”_

And then, after a moment, a twinge of doubt—

“ _Won’t he?”_

_Two._

Obi-Wan’s head struck the side of the tower on the way down. He made no sound.

_Three. Four._

The next two seconds were swift—Anakin called, “Ahsoka!” and both of their hands shot forward, empty, calling upon the Force. Obi-Wan’s descent slowed. The snow around him froze in midair, suspended like stars in a hologram. They lowered his limp body to the ground.

_Anakin will catch me. Won’t he?_

_Won’t he?_

_Five._

Anakin ran forward and fell to his knees in the snow. He caught Obi-Wan’s head in his lap and exhaled.

“Always, Master.”

Ahsoka appeared beside them, breathing hard. She set a hand down on Obi-Wan’s arm, and they both stared into his face. His skin was as pale as the ice, his lips discolored. Gone was the ordinary rosiness of his cheeks. Anakin put a hand to his forehead—and even with the numbness, he could tell Obi-Wan’s skin was far colder than his.

“Hey,” he said, gently nudging Obi-Wan. “We did it. They’re coming for us.” No answer. “Wake up, Obi-Wan. You have to stay awake—”

“Master.” Ahsoka’s voice, softly. Her hand on his shoulder now, instead of Obi-Wan’s. “Don’t—”

“He’s fine, Snips. He’s fine. Right Obi-Wan?” Anakin shifted on his knees, and Obi-Wan’s head rolled sideways. “That’s what you always say— _I’m fine._ It’s like your catchphrase. Like your—”

Anakin swallowed.

_“Famous last words.”_

_“Is that your catchphrase now?”_

Famous last words.

Last words.

Anakin swallowed again. His throat hurt. _No._

“Obi-Wan… _Master,_ you have to—”

“Don’t shake him, Skyguy—”

“You have to wake up. We have to find shelter until they come rescue us, until we can get you out of those wet clothes, and…and…”

His voice fizzled out. And as his throat grew tighter and tighter, one thought remained:

_Did he wonder, this time?_

_As he was falling, did he doubt if I’d be there to break his fall?_

Anakin shut his eyes. And as tears filled them, the hotness of them stung so much in contrast to the air that he swore they froze right there on his lashes.

But then he heard it.

A light cough.

He blinked back frozen tears and opened his eyes, and Obi-Wan was looking back.

“Hello there,” he rasped, then glanced sideways. “I appear to have taken a tumble.”

Instead of replying, Anakin fell forward. And there in the snow, he and Ahsoka piled onto him in a shivering, damp, frozen hug.

“Understatement of the century,” Ahsoka murmured into Anakin’s sleeve. Obi-Wan chuckled against Anakin’s chest. And though his parka was still wet and the snow soaked through their leggings, and it had been a long while since Anakin could feel his fingers and ears and toes, somehow, something warm sprung open in his chest.

They sat up, helping Obi-Wan to do the same. “Did we do it?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Anakin said. “They’re coming.”

_I hope._

“Good.” Obi-Wan’s eyelids fluttered, and he listed sideways, shoulder bumping against Ahsoka’s.

Anakin pulled him back upright. “Not yet. Don’t go to sleep, okay?” Obi-Wan inhaled slowly. The exhale was shaky. “We have to wait.”

“Wait for what?”

Anakin and Ahsoka shared a worried look. “Cody, remember?” Ahsoka said. “We called Cody.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan said. “Yes.”

Then, he sank back down into the snow.

“Come on,” Anakin said, pulling his shoulder. “Sit up.”

“I’m afraid I’m a bit…a bit dizzy.”

“That’s okay, Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka said. “We’ve got you.”

Again, they pulled him upright. Somehow—despite the fact that all of them could barely walk anymore, much less in a straight line—they shuffled over to the comm controls and collapsed behind them. Though it did nothing about the temperature, the metal did manage to block the bitter wind, and Anakin felt he could at least open his eyes all the way again.

Anakin and Ahsoka positioned Obi-Wan snug between them. Huddled together, they waited, hoping.

Hoping they could wait long enough.

— - —

“It tastes better with milk.”

Anakin was leaning over a pot of boiling water, reaching into the cabinet above the stove. He shot a sideways glare at Ahsoka as she reached for the fridge, pawing through until she came across the carton.

“No way. I hate milk.”

“Not when it’s chocolate flavored. Nobody does.”

“It’s about the _texture,_ Snips. Come on—can’t we just use water?”

“Can’t you just be a normal person with normal taste in food and beverages?”

The bickering continued as the kitchen filled with a sweet scent, with laughter and the clinking of porcelain. On their three days since returning to the Temple, there had been a lot of moments like this—frozen dinners and holofilms and early nights falling asleep on the couch. Things he’d forgotten about while hopping from battle to battle. Medical leave was frustrating, of course, and the war didn’t wait for them—Anakin felt the burden of all he couldn’t do while he was grounded here.

_But still,_ he thought as he stirred the pot, laughing when Ahsoka tried to push him out of the way to boil her milk, _it has its perks._

They were still giggling when Obi-Wan emerged from his room and padded into the kitchen, stocking feet quiet against the floor. He still wore sleep clothes—soft gray pants Anakin knew were his favorite, and an oversized sweater that he was pretty sure used to belong to Qui-Gon—with a blanket still around his shoulders. His nose was red, and he looked a little pale. One of his arms was still tucked in a sling. But he smiled a little, and for now, that was enough.

“Master! How’re you feeling?”

Obi-Wan shrugged, sniffling. “Okay,” he said quietly. But before he could elaborate, he was coughing—first gently, then harder into the crook of his unbroken arm. When at last he could breathe again, Anakin felt his own chest relax.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, then shot a wry look at Ahsoka. “Snips here just has inferior taste in—”

“I do not.”

“Well, then let’s leave it up to Obi-Wan.” He gestured to the boiling pot on the stove, then to the mugs. “Milk, or no milk?”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Milk, please.”

“Ha!”

“Oh, shut up.”

When he’d finished preparing the milk and powder, and poured it into three mugs, Anakin smiled. He turned to Obi-Wan and held out a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

“We know it’s not tea,” Ahsoka said, “but we thought this might be better. Master Luminara _might_ have let it slip that you have a sweet tooth.”

“Hence the marshmallows,” Anakin added.

Obi-Wan stared down into the chocolatey mix between his hands. When he looked up at them again, his eyes were warmer than the steam that rose from the mug.

“Thank you,” he said. “I—well—”

They never did find out what he’d been about to say. Because then Obi-Wan was coughing again, this time harder and deeper than before. Anakin took the mug back so he didn’t spill it. Ahsoka led him gently over to the couch. He sank down into the cushions, like his legs had been about to give out anyway.

When Ahsoka sat down beside him, Obi-Wan took the blanket from his shoulders and put it around hers, too. Anakin went back to the kitchen for the other two mugs of hot chocolate. Then, he slipped in on Obi-Wan’s other side.

They sat there together, sipping their hot chocolate and laughing at the milk mustaches that formed, and kept each other warm.

**Author's Note:**

> “Great things are done by a series of small things brought together” is a Van Gogh quote, by the way! We’re just gonna pretend he exists in the gffa lol
> 
> As always, comments and kudos always appreciated 😊 Thanks for reading, and (!!!) happy new year! Come say hello on tumblr: [ kckenobi ](https://kckenobi.tumblr.com/)


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